


Choose Your Own Adventure!

by iridescentglow



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes, The Academy Is..., The Sounds
Genre: Het and Slash, Multi, Snakes on a Plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentglow/pseuds/iridescentglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is this the kind of thing where we call shotgun, or do you think we should play rock-paper-scissors or something?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choose Your Own Adventure!

So there are these snakes. And this plane.

_Wait._

Scratch that.

There's the tiniest, most uncomfortable bathroom ever. There's Gabe's dick. There's the Sharpie tattoo between Maja's legs. There's William's mouth, lips parted, dirtier than a string of swearwords even when he's not saying anything. And definitely Gabe's dick. Gabe's dick should get a whole separate credit in this warped celluloid of reality that they've created.

So yeah. There are these snakes. And this plane. Travis doesn't really get the fan craze; he doesn't buy the hype. But he knows that the four of them, together, is pretty phenomenal.

*

It started with Gabe, like most things do. Travis knows there was a time before Gabe (B.G.?), but that time—working shitty jobs, scratching around for cash, spending it on the wrong things, seeing the wrong people—is beginning to fade. Sometimes it's kinda nice to think of his life beginning on the day that Pete pushed him forward at a party and said, "hey! you should meet Gabe." The music skidded to a stop—someone was changing the CD—and for once Travis actually had to crane his neck to see the smiling face in front of him. Except, less with the smiling and more with the _smirking_.

"You're Travis McCoy," said Gabe, apparently omniscient. Any reply Travis might have made (he can't fucking remember it) was drowned out by the opening bars of Madonna's _Borderline_. "Hell YEAH!" Gabe bellowed. He seized Travis by the arm and dragged him into the crowd of flailing dancers.

Travis does not dance at shitty house parties. Travis definitely does not dance to Madonna. But that night, Travis danced—to Madonna. Because Gabe has a way of making you _do things_.

"You know you like it," Gabe hissed-roared above the crowd noise, as _Borderline_ was replaced with _Like A Virgin_. He was an ungainly dancer, but enthusiastic. He pushed persistently into Travis' personal space—not yet grinding, but with intent. When the song ended, he spun away, still smiling.

_Smirking_.

*

Later that night, Travis thought he glimpsed Gabe being pushed up against a wall by someone who would later be introduced to Travis as William Beckett. In that split-second, at a distance, Travis couldn't have seen the way that Gabe's face was slack and ecstatic as William kissed him; he must have imagined the way William rubbed his hand against the small of Gabe's back, his fingers coaxed past the waistband of Gabe's pants; he couldn't possibly have heard William whisper, "Miss me?"

*

Travis shut off the shower as his cell phone launched into a second verse of _Wow! I Can Get Sexual Too_. He wiped the water out of his eyes, shook his hands dry and reached to answer the call. He caught sight of the name "Gabe" on the display and grinned in spite of himself.

"How much do you love me?" Gabe asked before Travis had a chance to say anything.

"Did you mean to call 1-900-SINGLES, man? 'Cause I ain't it."

Travis heard throaty laughter on the other end. "Tell me what you're wearing, at least," Gabe said, his voice warm with mocking.

Travis made an exaggerated glance down, momentarily forgetting that Gabe couldn't see him. "Nothing." Travis shrugged. "I was taking a shower."

"Dude. Don't fake me out. I _did_ call a sex line." Gabe paused. "Tell me how you want to fuck me, baby."

Travis' cock twitched involuntarily and he remembered that he hadn't had a chance to jerk off yet today.

"Let me guess," Gabe continued, "hands and knees. And you're fucking _pushing_ in there and it hurts like hell but it's oh so good and you're gentle with me. You would be gentle with me, right Travie?"

Travis could almost _see_ Gabe eyeing him in exaggerated lust from beneath sleepy lids, puckering his lips ever so slightly. Travis pushed the words, _you know you like it rough_ back down his throat and mumbled, "Yeah, yeah, real funny, Gabe. What do you want really?"

Gabe was laughing again. It took him several moments to recover. Finally he said, "You ever hear about a movie called Snakes On A Plane?"

*

Out of all of them, it was William who slept with Maja first. Travis had to concede that it made a perverse kind of sense. William had this way of smiling in just the right way, saying something mundane and/or ridiculous, and making girls fall into his arms. Boys, too, if Gabe was any indication. Except, less _into his arms_ and more _onto his dick_.

"I can't fucking believe you," Gabe said to William on the morning after. He clicked his teeth in annoyance and then reached automatically for his cigarettes.

"You can't smoke in here," William said serenely. "It's an airport," he added helpfully.

"You think you're such a fucking . . . such a _fucking_ . . ." Gabe's hands tightened into fists, unintentionally crushing his pack of cigarettes.

William inclined his head, pressing ever so slightly closer to Gabe. He lowered his voice and Travis just barely caught what he whispered. "I think I'm good at fucking, yeah."

Travis grinned. Gabe's face was priceless, caught somewhere between eye-popping annoyance and clawing-craving desire. William smiled mischievously and maintained his closeness. Travis ambled away, leaving the two of them to their fight (or _whatever_).

Maja was sitting in the far corner of the airport lounge they were using as a set. Her legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankles to reveal perfect, milky-white calves. She was reading a magazine, either intentionally ignoring Gabe and William or genuinely disinterested.

Travis took a seat next to her. He couldn't be bothered with preamble and he found it threw people off when he just jumped right into conversations. Travis likes to throw people off.

"You and William, huh?" he said.

Maja looked up. "William?" she asked vaguely.

"Fucking," Travis prompted.

"Ah, me and William," she said, as if remembering. She smiled and lowered her magazine. "You are jealous." It wasn't a question.

"Me? No." He smiled back at her. "Fuck no."

Maja picked up her magazine again. "You are jealous."

"Whatever." Travis shrugged it off. "Why him?" He paused and then added, "I mean, Gabe's been all over you."

"Oh, Gabe," Maja said. Travis waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. He found that her accent made everything sound a little more weighty than it really was.

"Seriously," Travis persisted, "why William?"

"I see you like him," Maja said archly. "Tell me why you fuck him." Travis opened his mouth to respond, but she waved her magazine in his face. "He is pretty. He looks like he bathes. He is not… a _player_. Or he plays better than Gabe. Better than you."

Maja looked over at him, angelic in her disdain. For a moment, it wasn't hard to imagine what would happen if Maja and William got married. They'd live in a little pink house on the side of a hill. Maja would wear daisies in her hair. William would probably wear daisies in his hair, too.

Fucking William.

Travis' eyes slid across the room. William and Gabe were nowhere to be seen.

Fucking _Gabe_.

*

Travis and William were smushed into the couch cushions on the bus, making out. Definite _making out_, with long, slow kisses and William making satisfied little noises at the back of his throat as his lips strayed to Travis' earlobe. It was kinda nice—kinda the only thing that Travis felt like doing on a sticky summer night after an exhausting day on Warped Tour.

William stretched lazily; he rearranged his limbs, clumsily graceful as he sank on top of Travis. William's hair tickled at his face. Travis felt dizzy from tiredness; melancholy in a pervasive, non-specific way. He was thinking dumbly how much like a girl William was, when William reached over and placed Travis' hand on his dick and moaned into his ear.

A girl who wanted to fuck his mouth with her cock, then.

William scrambled briefly out of Travis' grasp. He tugged at his pants—the buttons strained loose and his jeans shifted down over his hips. He was wearing red underpants underneath, which he wriggled nimbly out of.

"You're kind of shameless," Travis mumbled as the thought occurred to him.

William's eyes sparked in the half-darkness. This smile was sharper than his usual _aw-shucks_ expression. "You know it."

*

Travis watched as Gabe's hand inched up Maja's leg. Gabe walked his fingers up the length of her inside leg. His slowness was mesmerizing; he would have seemed careless if he weren't so intent. He reached the hollow of her knee and paused to swirl his forefinger in a circle. He placed his other hand flat against her thigh, twisting her leg open, lifting it so that her knee rested against his. Maja sighed, a sharp exhalation of breath, although whether she was turned on or merely irritated, Travis couldn't tell. Travis had found that Gabe's presence tended to provoke similar spikes of annoyance and anticipation.

Gabe's fingers moved up her inner thigh. She wriggled slightly in his grasp, but his right hand, still moulded around her thigh, held her fast. Gabe pushed at the hem of her skirt.

_So this is first class_, Travis thought as a flight attendant bustled past them with an expression that was carefully blank. He swigged at his champagne—_cheap_, but who the fuck cared when Gabe's hands were between Maja's legs and Travis had a first class view?

William was in a window seat, beside Maja. He, too, was watching Gabe's hands intently. He chewed absently on a green Sharpie, suckling on the end of it, teasing shallow bitemarks into the plastic.

"Gimme," said Gabe. He glanced up, locking eyes with William for a second.

William pulled the pen from his mouth with a sucking _pop_. He uncapped the Sharpie, hesitated, and then handed it to Gabe, slipping his own hand briefly between Maja's legs.

Maja's skirt was hiked all the way up now. Gabe's fingers grazed the lacy edge of her panties. He bent over her, sinking his face between her legs. He smoothed his thumb over the most sensitive part of her inner thigh. Then, the Sharpie angled in his right hand, he began to draw.

The tattoo that he gave Maja was remarkably deft: a small green snake wriggling towards her vagina, its forked tongue visibly hissing.

"It is good!" Maja looked down, critically examining her new tattoo. Gabe's fingers still lingered between her legs. As he began tracing the outline of the snake's body, Maja said warningly, "Don't, you'll smudge it."

Gabe retracted his hands. Maja continued to examine her snake, apparently pleased with it. "Maybe I get it for real," she mused. "For always." She rearranged her skirt, covering her thighs, but her legs remained casually splayed.

There was a beat of silence. Gabe turned the pen over in his hands. William chewed on his bottom lip. Travis raised the champagne glass to his lips once more.

"So," Maja said, stretching the word on her tongue, "which one of you gets to fuck me in the bathroom?"

Travis choked on his champagne. He coughed hard and then forced words out of his mouth. "Is this the kind of thing where we call shotgun, or do you think we should play rock-paper-scissors or something?"

There was a pause, and then William cleared his throat. He said vaguely, "Maybe we should do rock-paper-scissors. It seems . . . fairest."

Maja was either bored or doing a decent impression of it. She rolled her eyes and said, "Do your childish game if you must."

Gabe, with exaggerated nonchalance, counted to three and he, William and Travis thrust forward their hands on cue. Gabe and William were both scissors; Travis was rock.

*

"First time?" Gabe asked casually.

"What?" Travis was distracted by a menu filled with things that really didn't sound like actual _food_. He glanced up and saw that Gabe was smirking.

"First time," Gabe asserted, nodding to himself.

The waitress arrived. When Travis offered up, "I have no fucking clue," as his order, Gabe yanked the menu out of his hands and ordered for him.

"First time at what?" Travis asked suspiciously once the waitress had left.

"Never had sex on a plane before. That's tragic, man."

"Fuck off," said Travis, unable to hide his irritation at Gabe's hipper-than-thou smugness. Gabe made an _oooh_ face and reclined against the red leather of their booth. Travis continued, "Flying sucks, and I got better things to do with my life than worry if my girl's having a good time at twelve-thousand fucking feet."

"But you enjoyed it," Gabe prompted.

Travis grinned. "Well yeah, I enjoyed it."

Gabe let out a low laugh and murmured something under his breath. He reached for a packet of salt, pouring its contents onto the tabletop. He swirled the white grains absently using his finger, looking at the table rather than at Travis.

Travis watched the movement of Gabe's hands. He thought about the perfect _oh_ of William's mouth, as Maja had stood up, smoothed down her skirt and walked wordlessly to the plane's bathroom. He thought about the way Gabe had put his hands behind his head and muttered, "_fuck_," wearing a momentary scowl that had blossomed into an ear-splitting smile.

"Jealous," Travis drawled, still smiling at the memory. Unbidden, he heard Maja's accented _you are jealous_ in his head. "I'm surprised you didn't hit that, dude." He feigned concern. "Not much of a player. Couldn't bring that one home."

Gabe continued to tease out the salt, like it was cocaine that he was cutting into lines. He smiled slightly. "Ask me about the first time I saw The Sounds."

"Okay," Travis said slowly.

Gabe's gaze flickered up to meet Travis'. He didn't say anything.

Finally, Travis rolled his eyes and planted both elbows on the table. He leaned forward in exaggerated anticipation and rested his chin in his hands. "Hey, Gabe!" He emphasized the exclamation point in his tone. "Tell me about the first time you saw The Sounds!"

Gabe drew a slow circle in the salt. "I fucked Maja in the club's bathroom," he said.

Anyone else and Travis would know it was bullshit. But this was Gabe.

Travis shook his head, unable to keep from grinning. He rattled off his next question quickly, hoping to catch Gabe off-guard. "Tell me about the first time you saw The Academy."

Gabe narrowed his eyes, apparently unwilling to fall for Travis' psychological trap. "It's not like that with me and William."

Travis leaned back, the leather creaking as he shifted in his seat. "So I guess you don't care that me and Bill had sex every day on Warped Tour." He paused, remembering. "Twice when we were in Baltimore. Three times when—"

Their food arrived and Travis was robbed of any real reaction from Gabe (although he was sure he saw Gabe's jaw tighten and the smile in his eyes shut down). Gabe's plate looked like half-digested stomach contents; Travis' seemed only marginally more appetizing. Half-heartedly, he sawed off a hunk of tofu and began to eat.

Gabe was noticeably quiet as they ate and Travis took to watching the people go by outside, through the diner's huge, murky windows. One guy flipped him off; another gave him a huge smile. Despite the time—almost 3 a.m.—the crowds on the streets showed no signs of thinning out. Travis liked that most about the city—its sleeplessness, its exhaustive insomnia—but it also made him feel really fucking tired.

Travis went to the bathroom and smoked a joint. When he came back, his vegan meal looked significantly more appealing.

When the check arrived, Gabe gave Travis a smile that twisted at his mouth. "I guess this is goodbye, man," said Gabe.

Travis let out a laugh and threw a ten down onto the table. "Gabe, I see you all the fucking time. I can't get rid of you. I think, _shit, I wonder what Gabe's up to_—and then, bam! You call or show up at my door. You're like . . . you're like a cockroach. I don't know."

"Thanks." Gabe smiled again, but this time he seemed genuinely amused. His eyebrows quirked. "Your friendship means a lot to me, too."

Travis went to the bathroom again—for real this time. He vaguely considered jerking off, and then decided against it. When he came back out, their table was being cleared. He found Gabe loitering in the street outside, his Sidekick pressed to his ear.

"Never fucking answers his phone," Gabe muttered, jabbing at his Sidekick and slipping it into his pocket.

Travis had a fleeting memory of feeling William's hip vibrating. "You wanna get that?" Travis had drawled, his thumb dipping past the waistband of William's jeans. William had grinned and mouthed, _nuh-uh_, expelling only a sigh of anticipation.

Travis thought about telling Gabe this story. Instead he said, "I think if Maja and William got married they'd shun the limelight and go live in a little house in Sweden."

Gabe smiled at him like he was humouring a crazy person. The smile faded into an expression of quizzical appraisal, and then all of a sudden, Gabe was kissing him. Except, it wasn't really that sudden at all. Gabe was lazy-slow as he tugged Travis toward him, and Travis didn't even think of resisting as Gabe's mouth descended on his.

When Gabe broke the kiss, Travis summoned enough presence of mind to mumble, "I'm not—"

Gabe's smile was sharp this time. "You're not . . . ?" He dropped a quick kiss at the corner of Travis' mouth. "Not hard? Not into this? Not already thinking about me fucking you?" He rattled off the questions in rapid succession, not altering his tone except for a slight throaty dip at the word _fuck_.

Travis couldn't really deny any of it.

*

Travis McCoy is definitely master of his own destiny. But he can't help but think that Gabe is pulling some of the strings.

The next day, Travis is still in bed when receives a text message from Maja—mindless, _hey, how's it going?_ stuff, but Travis guesses that the subtext is, she kind of misses him. Them. Misses them.

Minutes later, William calls him, whining in his ear that he can't reach Gabe. Travis grins and kicks Gabe, who is passed out beside him. Gabe cracks open one eye and says, "Fuck him." Travis is about to relay the message when Gabe grabs the phone out of his hand. Travis can't help but laugh.


End file.
